


Apocalypstuck

by sunflowerwonder



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: (later) Character Death, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - Zombies, And Dave/John too, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Platonic Relationships, Survival, batterwitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwonder/pseuds/sunflowerwonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Side A: In which a skilled heiress and a dangerous academic make their way across the apocalypse-ridden country to find their younger siblings, regroup with old friends, and escape to freedom. </p>
<p>Side B: In which two badass bros try and find their older siblings, help their cynical best friend, fall in love, and possibly save what’s left of the world. </p>
<p>(Also, zombies.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Side A: Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just starting this off. John and Dave slaughtering zombies next time because chances are that's what you're here for. 
> 
> Also, my knowledge of Texas geography is limited. I tried my best though.
> 
> Enjoy-

Side A:

It’s been about two weeks.

You think.

Everything’s sort of starting to blend together, and running for two days straight at the beginning of this mess had done a fine job of screwing up your internal clock.

But yes, about two weeks.

Since, well, the end of the world. Or the beginning of the end. You supposed that was relative to how long the survivors lasted. And judging from what you’d seen that wouldn’t be long. 

But you were alive! And kicking, so to speak.

Your name is Jane Crocker and you just survived apocalypse.

And continuing to survive it too, much to your upmost pleasure.

But you were certainly not the freshly-eighteen year old girl that liked to bake and joke around anymore. You’d had to toughen up rather quickly with all the disastrous ordeals that had been circulating around you. While you had been trained from an early age how to fight and defend yourself (it was hard work being an heiress!), you’d never thought you’d actually need such skills in a survival setting. Yet you found yourself now; pastel blue dress torn to the hip and replaced the comfortable pants underneath, combat boots scavenged from an outdoorsman store, ammunition vest wrapped over your shoulders, a pistol at your hip and a pale silver trident on hand, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the training you’d received.

After all, not many people had been as lucky as you. And the ones that’d had turned savage from survival instincts. You’d had to defend yourselves from humans; those tainted with the batterwitch and those not, for the majority of the journey. But you were alive. You just had to keep remembering that.

You let out a soft sigh, looking over at the body lying a few feet away from you as you sat on guard. Dirk looked about as beat up as you did; unharmed, but with a fair share of sloppily bandaged cuts and dark bruises. He shifted a little, and you caught just the faintest flash of amber as the boy tried to cover his opened eyes.

“Go back to bed, Dirk. I’ve still got a few hours left on guard duty,” 

The eyes opened again, this time to stare at you intently. You wished he would just go to sleep. The dark circles under his eyes got worse by the day, and you could never really get him to settle down for more than an hour or two a night. You knew he was paranoid, but you’d told him time and time again how exhaustion wouldn’t help anyone. He never really replied though, he’d just shrug it off and continue his insomniatic ways while you’d continue to pester him. If you weren’t in such a horrid situation, it could honestly be quite funny to observe the similarities between the both of you when it came to stubbornness. Right now was no different as he slowly lifted himself up to a sitting position, rubbing his hollow eyes as inconspicuously as possible.

“Nah. Not really tired tonight. Mind if I take my shift early?”

Typical Strider.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t. You took part of mine last night too,” you pouted, crossing your arms in firm defiance.

He shot you a weak smirk, which, had you not been so well acquainted with the Striders, would have looked normal to the average eye. To you though, it was as obvious as day.

“You need sleep, Jane,” he said sternly.

“As do you. Now let me finish out my watch so you can get some rest.”

He remained silent, which wasn’t really anything new. You’d found him to be a rather quiet and analyzing person for being so sarcastic and snarky online. You didn’t mind it though.

“Well then, Crock-pot, mind if I stay up with you?” he asked, giving you a more sincere smile, “Or are you too obstinate about my beauty sleep for even that.”

You rolled your eyes but scooted over for him to sit next to you on the worn bench of a kitchen table in the long abandoned house you’d camped in for the night.

“Honestly, Strider. You’re going to run yourself into the ground at this rate.”

He shrugged noncommittally, choosing to focus his attention on retrieving a granola bar from his backpack and unwrapping it.

“You want some?” He asked, splitting it in two and taking a bite of the slightly smaller half.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You huffed.

He ended up shoving the piece into your hands anyway. 

“I’m not hungry.”

“We haven’t eaten since we were just outside New Mexico. Now eat up. This is five star dining, Jane. Nothing’s ruder than refusing an inch and a half of processed oats in the middle of an abandoned farmhouse.”

You took the food gracefully, more on account of his big brother instincts rather than him teasing you about being stubborn, but only lightly nibbled on it. He seemed satisfied.

“Speaking of,” you said quietly, “Where are we?”

“Middle of fucking nowhere.”

“That was very descriptive there, Dirk. I’m so glad you decided to enlighten me.”

He let out a short laugh.

“Sarcasm’s getting there, Crocker.”

“I suppose I’ve spent too much time around you, Strider.”

There were less than strained smiles all around. It was nice.

“No, but seriously. Where the heck are we?”

“I don’t know where the ‘heck’ we are. ‘Heck’, we could be in Oklahoma by now and I wouldn’t even know.”

You gave him a playful shove.

“Just tell me!”

“Alright, alright. But I’m starting to see John’s obnoxious side in you I hope you know,” You shot him a glare; “Last town we passed was Wimberley. Should make it to Houston in a few days or so.”

“Good,” you said, relaxing at the thought. You had no idea what you were going to do after that, but it would be nice to see your little brother again, and from the way Dirk got all on edge when you mentioned Dave, he would be glad to see his bro as well.

(Of course, there was always the possibility they were… gone. And in all honesty it had a very likely chance of being true, but both of you decided to rule that thought out and just focus on making it from Washington back to Houston.)

Dirk slowly pulled out his IPhone, his impractical shades long cracked from when you’d both made a misstep off a particularly rocky precipice in Arizona while being chased by a few ruthless infected beings. He hadn’t really made a comment about the fractured lenses though, only assuring you that he had AR backed up onto his phone as well, so you hadn’t lost him.

(AR hadn’t been much help though. While Dirk’s phone ran on a uranium battery and had service from a satellite he and Roxy had launched when they were younger, the rest of the world had fallen into chaos, and little to no information was being updated on the damage status. Though, to go without saying, things were probably pretty bad.)

He had seemed a little downcast though, and you had soon learned to avoid direct eye contact with him for the next few days. He’d adjusted though, and now he was the same old Dirk. Though you’d made sure to tell him on multiple occasions that he looked much more attractive without the shades, even if he preferred them to communicate over the phone he kept for emergencies in his hand.

“Are you going to try her again?” you questioned, receiving a nod in confirmation.

“I can’t even get through to English’s island. But as long as Roxy’s phone goes to voicemail, I’m going to keep trying her.”

You peeked over Dirk’s shoulder and noted Roxy's number was the first on the list of emergency contacts. It amused you to know that as much as he joked about her drunkenness  
she was still his best friend. They were both geniuses after all. And while you and Jake tried your best, he seemed to click with her on a much deeper level.

You watched him tense up as he placed the call, but both of you were pretty sure what the outcome of it would be. Nevertheless, he and you listened through several long rings before her message system kicked on.

"Hey there! This is Roxy! I can't come to the phone right now because me and my lil' sis are living it up in California! ('Don't say it like that, Roxy. People will get the wrong idea.') ('Shut up Rose not everything I say is an innuendo.') Anyway, leave me a message and I'll call ya back!"

Dirk waited for the message tone to beep.

"Hey Rox. It's me again. Jane and I are in Texas now, or at least I hope we are. Still heading towards Houston. Just thought I'd give you the heads up."

He paused for a second.

"...I know this is like the hundredth time I've called you, and by now I'm pretty sure you don't have your phone, but I hope you're okay. Please be careful out there. Call me back when you get this. Bye."

The call ended.

You hesitated for a second, watching him clutch the phone in an uncharacteristic habit of nervousness.

“I’m sure she’s alright, Dirk. Roxy was never the most responsible one, especially when it came to her phone.” 

He brought a hand to his temples, massaging them thoroughly.

“Yeah, you’re right. I just worry, you know?”

“All you’ve ever done since I met you is worry.”

Another weak smile.

“Yeah. And I can guarantee I was still worrying long before that, and I’ll probably still worry long after I do an acrobatic fucking ghost pirouette off this planet.”

You leaned into him a bit so that your shoulders were touching. It wasn’t enough to make things awkward, but was enough for him to feel a little comfort. At least you hoped he was taking comfort in it. You never really knew how to help Dirk, but as a compliment to his older brother complex you were an older sister. And you were going to take care of him if it was the last thing you do.

“Are you going to try Dave?”

A twitch of emotion in his face was visible. 

“His phone’s still dead.”

“Maybe he found a charger? He's pretty resourceful.”

Dirk was silent for a moment. You knew Dirk hated to call Dave. He had hated it every time he’d done it during your little adventure. Dave’s phone was the only one outside your group of older kids that was connected to Dirk and Roxy’s signal. But every time it went to voice mail was another conformation to Dirk that his brother not might me okay as you’d both been pretending he’d be. You knew the thought of unknown variables scared him. You also knew that deep down he really loved his brother.

“Come on, it’s worth a shot.”

He quickly pulled Dave's number from the contacts and let out a shaky sigh. After one ring it went to voice mail, still neglected to being charged.

"Hey. You've reached Strider Nirvana in the form of me. I'm not taking your call at the moment because I'm probably making out with Egbert ('Ew, Dave. What the heck?') or we're playing video games ('That's better.') either way leave a message. And if you're my Bro: fuck off, we're fine. Enjoy your visit with John's sister in Washington; I can take care of him and myself just fine here."

Dirk pursed his lips and waited for the familiar beep again.

"Hey, lil' man. You better not be dead or I'm going to break into Hell and kick your sorry ghost ass. Me and Jane are almost to Houston. Charge your phone. Take care of John. Don't die. Love ya kiddo, call me back."

The phone was slipped into his pocket without another word, and you knew any comment about your siblings would be unwelcome. 

“Well,” he said, suddenly getting up to stretch before reaching for his pack, “If neither of us are gonna sleep, why don’t we land a head start on another day, huh?”  
You nodded, “It’ll be dawn soon anyway.”

You both looked out the window of to see the first rays of sunlight barely peeking up over the horizon. While normally you’d both sleep a little more, it was best not to waste time now that you were both so close to your goal.

“Hey, Strider?”

“Hm?”

“They’re going to be fine. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Really?”

“Of course. It’s us I’m worried about.”

“Comforting.”

“Yep.”

“And Dirk?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. For saving me. And getting me out of there. And helping me get back to my brother.”

“You’re my friend, and I’m trying to find my little bro too. It’s not exactly anything heroic.”

“I’m serious though.” 

“…”

“I mean it.”

“Thanks, Jane.”

"Anytime."

-


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what I'm doing.
> 
> John and Dave are here though. That's it. That's all I understand.

Side B:

There was something rhythmic about the way you two moved together.

Boy, that sounded gay.

Whatever. 

The point was that John was a total badass and conveniently forgot to tell you.

Like really badass. Like “Oh, by the way Dave! My Dad paid for us kids to get fighting lessons! I can crush people’s skulls with no problem at all!” badass. You weren’t really sure either. But you’re glad he wasn’t that one guy in horror films that doesn’t know how to do anything. In fact, his survival knowledge actually exceeded yours. 

He was smiling now, the sadistic little fucker, as he swung around a sledgehammer like it was a foam sword. It collided with one of the creatures (you’d decide to call them zombies; for lack of a better word and the fact that the both of you loved old cult classic horror films) and sent it sprawling back into a few of his buddies. You had your own hands full with a raggedy group of them closing in on you and John’s left side. Your slender Katana was already starting to crack (stupid, cheap anime swords), but it bit into the greying flesh of a haggard looking almost-woman with practiced ease. Pulling your weapon out of her stomach to defend yourself yet again, you found yourself back to back with John as the hoard of them began to form a ring around you. 

“Looks like we’re pretty popular today, huh?” John said, not risking looking over his shoulder at you as you both began to move in a slow defensive circle.

“Really, Egbert? Cliché movie lines? I’d rather go down with some dignity.” You shot back.

He giggled. Fucking giggled. You rolled your eyes.

“Didn’t know you were the type to get off on something like this.” You called, dodging a stray attack by what appeared to be a shovel a middle-aged zombie was thrashing around.

“Shut up. I’ve just never gotten to be a hero, you know?” he said, landing another solid hit to one that came just a little too close to their defensive space.

Another of the zombies got brave then, charging out of the line towards your defense. John quickly swung a low hit to knock him off balance, and your blade cut all the way through his stumbling body in one quick stroke. The others didn’t move to attack, but stayed in a threatening formation around you nonetheless.

“Well, mister hero, unless you’re about to mutate into Superman we better get the hell out of here.” 

He nodded.

“Two o’ clock. Old guy. Easy target. Can’t see what’s behind him but it’s our best bet.” He said quickly, keeping an eye out in case the rest of the creatures charged, “Ready?”

You’d never admit it but the kid could be a good leader when he felt like it. 

“Hell yes.”

You felt him tense up, face growing serious, arms taking an offensive stance with their weapon.

“Three… Two… One… Go!”

You took the lower aggressive position, knowing John would cover you from any attacks from above. Like you said so gayly said before, the two of you really did work well together. Flashstepping forward into a rush, you slashed at what once must have been an old guy but now resembled a decomposing corpse, cleanly slicing off his legs with little effort. The best thing about Crocker Corporation’s infection (though saying there was a best thing seemed a bit contradictory) was that it degenerated the body so fast that killing what’s left of the humans was rather easy, though if you let too many corner you you could get stuck in some serious shit. You and John had been extremely hesitant about injuring them at first, since technically they weren’t exactly dead yet, but several close calls and the discovery that their first instinct was to kill survivors had convinced you otherwise. Now you treated it sort of like a game. A very shitty game, but still a game. Like a video game or movie plot. Of which the two of you were the heroes of course.  
Above you was a sharp sound of brittle bones cracking, letting you know that John had killed whoever was behind the old guy instantly while you took on another that attacked you from the side wielding what appeared to be an old kitchen knife. 

“C’mon, let’s go!” John called as you looked up to see the opening in the attack line he’d made. You instantly rushed towards him, grabbing his hand and pulling his surprised state to keep up. He hadn’t completely mastered the flashstep yet, in fact he’d barely increased his normal speed, but he tried his hardest to match your stride with what little you’d taught him.

“Where we headed, Egbert?” You said, turning down a back alley to cross to another main street. 

“I don’t know! It’s your hometown, isn’t it?”

You groaned, wishing you had the time to explain that Houston was huge and your outings usually only consisted of McDonald’s, the nearby movie theater, and school, but instead you spotted a convenience store right across the street.

“In here,” you stated, pulling open the powerless sliding doors and shoving him ungracefully inside.

You slid it back closed and pulled the nearest shelf to you against it. And then another one for good measure. John instantly started checking for other back doors, dead bolting and barricading the two he found as well. When the two of you were finally blocked in enough to feel safe, you let out a small sigh. The place was small and dark, power having long gone out, but it was home for now.

“Damn,” you said quietly, feeling you adrenaline rush calming down.

“We really need to get out of Houston, Dave.” John replied, releasing the blinds so that it was even darker, but at least no unexpected visitors could see you.

“Bro and Jane are gonna come for us, just give them a little more time.”

“We’ve been waiting for almost three weeks now. It’d be safer in someplace with less infected… people,” he said, coming over to you to give your hand a squeeze, “We’re not giving up on them, but they’d want us to be safe.”

You nodded but didn’t reply, instead beginning unpacking the few possessions you’d brought with you. Most everything was from the emergency packs your Bro had kept in the apartment. Unfortunately, considering you’d literally had your door knocked down by a couple of Crocker employees looking for your rebellion-leading Bro, you’d only managed to grab necessities before escaping out the fire exit with John. Of course, that was before you knew what had happened to the world.

John, meanwhile, bit his lip, looking like he wanted to say more, but instead he began scavenging the shelves for non-Crocker products as he typically did when you found a good enough place to camp for the night. The whole reason this mess started was because the Batterwitch decided to contaminate all her magical boxed products with some type of degenerative disease. And, considering the amount of people all over the world who purchased Crocker foods, it hadn’t taken long for the majority of humans to be affected.   
You decided to help him, shoving all the foods marked with the signature red fork to the corner. Which, much to your aching stomach’s contempt, was the majority.

“She’s got her claws on everything,” John muttered, tossing aside a box of Gushers with a longing look.

You’d simply let out a short laugh.

Once you’d located a small pile of safe snacks, you moved to the drink section. You gathered a few water bottles and stuffed them in your pack, before tossing John a warm Pepsi and getting yourself a bottle of apple juice.

“Fuuuuuck yes. How I missed you dear, dear, apple juice,” you said, resting your check against the bottle.

“Oh my God, Dave. Making out with a drink that may or may not contain piss is the last thing we need to do right now.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, turning back to your drink, “Don’t listen to him, AJ. He’s just bitter because he’s not being held in these last nights of our glorious world.”

“Seriously Dave? Seriously?”

“Shhhh. We’re having a Titanic moment over here if you don’t mind.”

John gave you a quick scoff before turning towards a door behind him.

“I’ll just leave you two alone then as I actually do something productive. You think this place has a generator? It’d be nice to have some light-”

You heard the distinct sound of John’s drink hitting the floor. You quickly turned around to see him frozen, holding open the door that lead to some type of storage room. His skin was pale and his shoulders were subtly shaking.

“John…?” You asked cautiously, coming up behind him.

A body hung from a tall rack in the storage closet. John let out a whimper that was probably just a repressed scream.

The thing was old but still hanging from the belt around its neck, his face still in a recognizable chocked expression. You felt your stomach lurch as you drew in a sharp breath.

You quickly slammed the door shut, instincts kicking in. John continued to stare ahead though.

“John,” you said carefully, a little bit scared at the wide-eyed look on his face.

“John.”

His jaw quivered.

“John, snap out of it.”

He finally took a breath.

“He- He- I-“

From out of nowhere he tackled you, and it took everything you had not to go sprawling to the floor. You managed to hang onto him though as he clutched your chest desperately.

“He- He killed himself- He didn’t- didn’t even- Why would- Dave- I-“

“I know, I know. But John you need to calm the fuck down.” You said, voice coming out a bit more demanding than you intended.

John flinched.

“CALM DOWN?! THERE’S A DEAD BODY IN THERE DAVE! AND IT’S MY FAMILY’S FAULT-“

“No, it’s not. You had nothing to do with this.”

He gave you a look that crossed somewhere between fear and exasperation before shooting away from you, instead beginning to claw at the shelves you’d pushed in front of the doors frantically. You immediately followed him, trying to stop his hands as he urgently tried to pull the blockade away. You managed to grasp one fist finally, holding him in a death grip, and he looked at you with the desperation of a caged animal.

“Dave- Dave I can’t stay here-“

“Calm down, Egbert.”

“Dave you don’t understand that’s the first dead body I’ve ever seen and the zombies don’t count because we agreed they’re not even human but that is Dave that is and I need to get out of here now because he’s dead and-“

You pulled him into a hug, wrapping your arms, dirt smeared shirt and all, around him. He tried to push you away at first, before simply freezing on spot.

“John, it’s almost nightfall. We leave right now and they’ll have the advantage. Now you’re gonna need to relax or we’re dead meat.”

He nodded slowly, leaning his body awkwardly into you and returning the hug.

“You’re… You’re right.” He said emotionlessly.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” he mumbled onto your shoulder. 

“You can’t freak out like that, okay? Scared the shit out of me.” you said, breaking apart from him so you could look at him directly.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” he said quietly.

“If this is a game it’s pretty fucked up.”

He bit his lip but didn’t reply.

“C’mon. Let’s get some sleep. We’ll look for a generator in the morning.”

He looked back at the closet, “It’s in there. I saw it.”

You maneuvered yourself to be in his line of sight, “Then I’ll get it tomorrow. I already got out the sleeping bag and I’ll take first watch.”

“I- Yeah. Yeah okay.” he glanced a wary eye at the closet before scooting the sleeping bag to the far corner of the room. You felt a pain in your chest to see him so nervous. And even though he’d been acting strong you knew he was just as scared as you were deep down.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you have no idea how to keep you and your best friend alive.

But fuck if you aren’t going to try.

-


End file.
